


Of Days Remote

by amyfortuna



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Beleriand, Gen, Isengard, Palantír(i)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8268358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Saruman investigates the palantir of Orthanc.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



Angrenost, known as Isengard in the Common Tongue, had only recently been reclaimed from the Dunlendings by the king of Rohan, on behalf of Gondor. Orthanc itself had been locked many years before, and the Dunlendings could never penetrate that vast fortress of rock. Saruman, with the agreement of both the king of Rohan and the Steward of Gondor, was given the keys to the Tower. 

The palantir was found in the treasure-room of Orthanc amidst many ancient heirlooms that the house of Elendil brought from Númenor. 

Saruman had never seen a palantir before, though of course he knew of them, and what they did. Found, it was said, by Nerdanel after the departure of her husband and sons for Middle-earth, the palantíri lay unused for an age, as there was not much need for them in Aman. Fëanor had not thought to take them with him to Middle-earth, for what reason no one knew. Perhaps, Saruman mused, in his quest for perfection, he simply thought the palantíri not good enough to take, not worth the weight. 

In Númenor, the seeing-stones had proved invaluable to the work of the Faithful, enabling communication beyond the reach of the King's Men, even beyond Sauron himself. There had once been many more of the palantíri, of varying sizes, but most of them had been lost in the wreck of Númenor itself. Not one of the stones had ever fallen into the hands of the enemy, but only seven of them survived, borne on white ships flying from the West and the foundered land. 

Saruman picked up the stone, holding it in the palm of his hand. He'd read a dusty tome in Minas Anor some years back, long before he received the keys of Orthanc, explaining how to gaze into a seeing-stone. He was facing northwest, and with great caution, he dared to look. 

_\-- Two horses galloping across wide plains, golden-haired Elves riding atop them, both of them laughing_

_\-- The fierce face of a dark-haired Elf with gold in his braids, drawing back a bow, even as fire surged around him_

_\-- A mortal man with grey in his beard staring solemnly at a golden figure in the distance_

_\-- A Balrog, whip of flame in hand, advancing steadily on a lone warrior_

_\-- A mortal man receiving a helm from the hands of a crowned king_

_\-- A mortal woman, fighting her way out of a spiderweb as her companions around her were seized and dragged off_

_\-- A blazing flame leaping up suddenly, the silhouetted figures around it jerking back in fear_

_\-- An Eagle soaring in the wind_

_\-- Two small children huddling together at the roots of a tree, snow all around them_

_\-- A dwarf with an axe as big as he was, getting ready to attack the vast beast approaching him_

Saruman forced his gaze away from the palantir. As interesting as it was to see long-drowned Beleriand, it wasn't terribly useful. Could he focus his gaze to see more recent or more nearby events? 

He shifted, turning toward the east, and looked again. 

Flame filled his gaze.


End file.
